I Enjoy Causing Problems

The Next DayDecember 26th; 2025Taylor Swift's Point of ViewHe's absolutely perfect. Every little inch of him, from his soft, wispy hair to his tiny, wrinkled feet. Daniel is asleep in Travis's arms, his little chest rising and falling with each steady breath. Travis is swaying him gently, his eyes never leaving his son. I've never seen him look so at peace, so full of joy. It's as if Daniel is the missing piece to everything, and Travis is soaking in every moment, every second of his little boy's existence. Not even 24 hours old, and already so loved.

I watch them, feeling my heart swell with an emotion I can't quite describe. There's something so beautiful about watching Travis with our son—his tenderness, his love, everything about it is perfect. I never doubted he'd be a great dad to him, but seeing it unfold in front of me makes it all the more real.

The moment is interrupted by a soft knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. I glance up to see Blake standing there, Zoë's hand in hers.

"Hey you guys. We have a visitor," Blake says, her smile wide, almost teasing.

Zoë pulls away from Blake's hand, her little legs carrying her as fast as they can across the room. She runs straight to me, her face scrunched in concern. "Are you okay, Mommy? Why is Mommy hurt?"

I'm still lying on the hospital bed, trying to adjust to everything, and hearing Zoë's innocent worry makes my chest tighten.

"I'm okay, sweetie," I say, reaching out to pull her into my arms, my voice soft but reassuring. "I'm just resting. Everything's okay now."

Her face falls a little as she looks me over. "But you're at doctor!" she exclaims, her small brow furrowing with confusion. She doesn't quite understand yet, but I can see the concern in her eyes.

I smile, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face. "I'm at the doctor because I had the baby, Zo Zo. I'm fine now, though. See?" I gesture to Daniel, who's still peacefully sleeping in Travis's arms.

Zoë's eyes widen as she notices him for the first time. "Baby!" she exclaims, her voice full of wonder. She reaches out toward him, her tiny fingers twitching with curiosity. "That my brother?"

I nod, feeling a rush of emotion at the sight of Zoë meeting Daniel for the first time. "That's your baby brother, Zo Zo. His name is Daniel."

Zoë stares at him for a moment, her eyes softening. "He's little."

I chuckle, my heart swelling. "Yeah, he's little right now. But he'll grow up just like you."

Blake, still standing at the door, smiles at the scene unfolding. "I think someone's ready to be a big sister," she says, her voice warm and encouraging.

Zoë looks back at me, her eyes full of pride. "I help him, Mommy," she says, pointing to Daniel. "I make him not cry."

"That's right, Zo Zo," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "You're going to be such a good big sister."

I can feel the weight of everything—the joy, the exhaustion, the love. My family is complete now, and I know it's just the beginning of something even more beautiful.

"Do you want to hold him?" I ask Zoë, my voice soft, hoping she's ready for the new responsibility of holding her little brother.

Her eyes light up with excitement, and she immediately nods, her tiny hands stretching out toward Travis. "Yes, Mommy!" she says eagerly, her voice full of wonder.

I watch as she reaches for him, but Blake steps in, sensing that Zoë might need a little help. "How about we do this?" Blake suggests with a warm smile, lifting Zoë carefully in her arms and settling her gently on the bed beside me. Zoë curls up next to me, her little body still small and delicate, her eyes never leaving Daniel.

Travis hands me the baby, and I shift him so that his tiny head rests against the crook of my arm. I glance over at Zoë, still watching with wide, innocent eyes, her attention fully captured by her baby brother.

Blake stays by her side, her arm lightly resting around Zoë's shoulders for support, but it's clear Zoë's focus is entirely on Daniel. She leans in closer, almost as if she's trying to understand every little detail about him. Her small fingers twitch as she watches me hold him, her eyes full of curiosity and love.

"Can I hold him now?" Zoë asks, her voice a little more serious, like she's ready for the responsibility.

I smile, nodding, and carefully pass Daniel into Zoë's eager arms. She holds him with such gentleness, her tiny hands cradling his head and body like she's already become the big sister she's meant to be. It's a soft, quiet moment—one of those rare moments where everything feels right in the world.

Zoë looks up at me, her face glowing with pride. "He's so little, Mommy."

"I know, sweetheart. He's perfect, isn't he?" I whisper, my heart full. I watch her as she talks to Daniel in her soft, babyish voice, already doing her best to welcome him into the family.

Daniel lets out a soft grunt before yawning, his tiny mouth opening wide as he blinks, revealing his beautiful blue eyes. The sight tugs at my heart, and I can't help but smile at the little miracle in Zoë's arms.

Zoë's gaze is fixed on him, her eyes wide with awe. "His eyes like mine," she says, her voice full of wonder.

I chuckle softly and look down at her, my heart swelling with love. "Both of you have Mommy's eyes," I say, brushing a strand of hair from Zoë's face. It's true—there's something in the way their eyes sparkle, so much like mine, that makes me feel an even deeper connection to both of them.

Zoë beams, her small hands gently holding Daniel as she looks at him with complete adoration. "We both have Mommy's eyes!" she repeats, almost as if she's savoring the connection between them.

It's a beautiful moment, the three of us sharing something so simple and yet so perfect. My heart feels full, knowing that Zoë and Daniel are starting to bond in ways that will shape their relationship forever. And I, as their mother, get to witness this first chapter of their journey together.

I freeze when I see them—Scott and Andrea. I invited them but I wasn't sure if they'd show. My heart pounds in my chest, and for a moment, I wonder if I'm imagining it. But no, they're really here. Standing just inside the doorway, looking hesitant, like they're not sure if they're allowed to be in this moment with me. It's the first time in months that I've seen them, and it's all so... overwhelming. They came. After everything, after the silence, they actually came.

Travis notices the tension in the air and, sensing I need a moment to process this, speaks up gently. "Uh, Blake, do you mind taking Zoë outside for a minute?"

Blake looks at him, then at me, sensing the weight of the situation. "Oh, sure. I'll take her." Her voice is steady, but she doesn't miss the seriousness in the room. She steps toward Zoë, who's already clinging to my side, sensing something is off.

"Thank you," I whisper, my throat tight with emotions I can't quite put into words. I glance down at Daniel in my arms, feeling his warmth, his tiny weight grounding me. He's the only thing that feels certain right now.

Zoë, however, is not having it. Her little hands tug at me, her face scrunching in confusion as she looks from me to the strangers in the doorway. "Mommy! I don't wanna go!" She whines, her voice cracking with frustration. It's clear she doesn't understand, and that only makes my heart ache more.

Blake leans down and gently scoops Zoë into her arms, her voice soothing as she talks to her. "It's okay, sweetie. Let's go find something fun to do for a little while, okay?" Zoë protests for a moment longer, but Blake's calm demeanor wins her over. Zoë's soft sobs fade as Blake walks out of the room, the door clicking shut behind them.

And then, just like that, the room feels quieter. Just me, Scott, and Andrea. They don't move forward, just standing there, waiting for me to make the next move. They came. After everything, they came.

My mind races. I'm holding Daniel tightly, his small body a comfort in my arms, but my heart is doing anything but settling. The last time I saw Scott and Andrea, things were ugly—words were said, bridges burned, and I walked away from them. Now, here they are, in my hospital room, uncertain but here.

I look up at them slowly, not sure what to say. The words seem stuck, caught in the back of my throat, and I can't figure out if I want to say everything or nothing at all.

"If you don't mind, we brought someone else," Scott says, his voice tight with uncertainty. He's standing near the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, still keeping a few steps of distance from me, as if unsure whether he's intruding or if I'll even allow him inside.

I furrow my brow, my pulse quickening. "Uh... what do you mean?" I ask, the words leaving my mouth with a slight quiver. There's a knot forming in my stomach, an unexplainable tension that's starting to grow.

Scott hesitates, looking to Andrea for a moment, and then back to me. "You didn't really give us a lot of time to explain or talk before you kicked us out last time," he admits, his voice cracking slightly. "I get it, Taylor, but this... it's important."

I feel my breath hitch at his words. My mind races back to that day, the anger, the hurt, the overwhelming sense of betrayal that had rushed through me when they'd abandoned me. And now, after everything, they're here, standing in my room, asking for more? My heart beats harder in my chest, but I try to steady my breath, waiting for him to continue.

Before I can respond, the door creaks open a little wider, and another man steps into the room, his movements hesitant, but purposeful. He's in his early twenties, just a few years younger than me, but there's something about him that makes me stop, my eyes locking onto him without meaning to.

His face is young, but his features—sharp jawline, strong cheekbones—are familiar in a way that I can't immediately place. It takes only a split second for my breath to catch in my throat. His eyes—those eyes—are so strikingly blue, just like mine, that they almost don't seem real. They're piercing, yet soft, filled with a strange sadness and something else, something almost too intimate to name. My stomach lurches, and I feel a sudden, strange rush of emotion wash over me.

The man looks at me and offers a tentative smile, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. "I'm Austin," he says simply, his words almost hesitant but steady.

My mind feels like it's short-circuiting, trying to process what's happening. I stare at him, unable to look away, unable to understand how this is possible, how this man could exist in my life, in my world, and yet I never knew him.

Then Scott, standing behind him, finally speaks again, his voice low, almost apologetic. "He's... your brother." The words seem to echo in my mind. My brother. The thought feels foreign, strange, like something that doesn't belong.

I blink, trying to piece together this revelation. My throat is dry, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as everything in my body reacts at once. A brother? A part of my family I never knew existed? Why didn't I know? Why wasn't I told? There are a million questions swirling in my mind, but I can't seem to form a single one that makes sense.

Austin stands still, watching me with those identical eyes—my eyes—and I realize, suddenly, that he's waiting for something. Some reaction, some acceptance, some permission to be a part of my life now. But how can I do that? How can I let this stranger—this brother—into my life after all the years of not knowing him, after all the pain I've been through?

I open my mouth to speak, but the words are stuck. It's like there's something thick and heavy lodged in my throat. What do I say? How do I even start?

I stare at Andrea, my thoughts spiraling as the weight of her words presses down on me. Her tone isn't harsh, but it carries a certain edge, like she's been rehearsing this, like she's ready for me to argue, but she's also trying to get through to me in a way that doesn't push too hard.

I glance at Scott, standing just behind her, and then back to Austin, who's standing a little farther off, his eyes on me with a kind of cautious hopefulness, like he's waiting for me to make some kind of decision that could change everything. And in this moment, it feels like I'm standing on the edge of something I've never been prepared for.

"I invited Scott and Andrea because I wanted to get to know my parents. Not for a family reunion," I say, my voice shaking with the weight of the frustration and confusion swirling inside me. I want to say more, to tell them everything I've been feeling, but the words don't come. All I can focus on is the way they've appeared now—like they've been waiting for this moment, ready to sweep into my life, expecting me to accept them without question. And I'm not sure I can do that, not after everything that's happened, not after everything that's been missing for so long.

Andrea steps forward slightly, her eyes softening as she speaks, her voice taking on a more measured tone. "You said over the phone you wanted to give it a chance," she reminds me gently, but there's a quiet insistence beneath the calm. "You never had a family growing up, and you didn't want to rob your kids of grandparents. You shouldn't rob them of their uncle as well, then."

Her words hit me like a wave, crashing over the resolve I've been clinging to, drowning the anger and confusion I've been holding onto. The thought of my kids, Zoë and the baby, having something I never had—the chance to know their family, to have connections that are deeper than the surface, it's a powerful idea. But at the same time, it feels so complicated, so full of emotional baggage that I'm not sure I can carry.

"I—" I start, my voice faltering as I try to put the storm inside me into words, but nothing comes out the way I want it to. I look down at Daniel, who's asleep in my arms, and for a moment, I just focus on his peaceful face, grounding myself in his warmth. "I didn't have a family. Not the way other people did," I say quietly, feeling the old wound open as I speak. "And now, this Austin guy shows up, and I'm supposed to just... accept this? This stranger in front of me, who I never even knew existed? And you think that's what's best for my kids?"

Scott shifts slightly, and I can tell he's waiting for something—an opening, maybe a crack in my defenses. But I don't know if I can let them in. Not yet. Not when everything still feels so raw.

Austin, who has been silent up until now, steps forward slowly, his gaze not quite meeting mine, but there's something in the way he stands that makes me pause. He's not demanding anything. He's not pushing for a place in my life. He's just here, standing in front of me, his presence a stark reminder of everything I never knew, everything I lost.

"I don't want to pressure you," Austin finally says, his voice quieter than I expect, but firm. "I'm not asking you to forgive or forget. I just... I want to get to know you. If you'll let me."

"Did they give you up?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

Austin's expression softens, his blue eyes glistening with something I can't quite read. He exhales sharply, and it's as if the question itself has worn him down, and he's trying to figure out how to put his own feelings into words. The silence stretches between us, and I feel my heart hammer in my chest, waiting for the answer I'm not sure I'm prepared to hear.

"No," Austin says, his voice low and steady, but there's a quiet sadness to it. "They raised me in Reading, Pennsylvania. I didn't even know about you until a few years ago."

I blink, the surprise hitting me harder than I expected. A few years ago? The idea that Scott and Andrea kept me hidden from him, that they could have just... kept it from him, is a blow I wasn't prepared for. The air feels thick, the truth of it sinking into me, and I don't know if I feel angry, hurt, or just lost in this sea of new information.

"So you didn't know," I say, repeating his words to make sure they sink in. "You didn't even know about me?"

Austin shakes his head slowly, his gaze moving to the floor for a moment before he meets my eyes again, his expression a mix of regret and uncertainty. "No," he says softly. "I had no idea. It wasn't until a few years ago when my parents—" He pauses, swallowing hard. "When they told me about you, about what happened. I didn't know about you, Taylor. I didn't know about the family I had."

His words hit me like a wave, and suddenly, everything shifts. The anger that had been building inside me falters, replaced with something else—a strange mixture of empathy and sadness. I wonder what it must have been like for him to grow up not knowing that he had a sister. To find out, years later, that there was another piece of his family out there, a family that had been kept from him.

And then the realization hits me all over again—he's here now, and this is my choice. This is the moment where I decide what to do with all of this, with everything that's been left unsaid for so long.

"Why didn't they tell you sooner?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly, though I'm not sure if it's from the weight of the question or from the fear of what this could all mean.

Austin shrugs, his face tightening slightly. "I don't know. Maybe they thought it was for the best. Or maybe they were scared. I don't have all the answers. I just... I wanted to meet you. I want to know you, Taylor. I don't want to be part of a secret anymore."

The silence stretches between us, and I take a deep breath, letting the words sink in. The man standing in front of me is my brother. A part of me has always known I wasn't alone, even when I felt like I was. And now, in this moment, I can feel the weight of that truth settling over me—this isn't a fairy tale or a neat resolution to some long-lost dream. This is real. And it's messy. But it's also a chance. A chance to decide what happens next.

I glance down at Daniel, his tiny form nestled peacefully in my arms, a softness in his features that never fails to steal my breath away. I look back up at Austin, his wide eyes filled with surprise, and I feel a flicker of something warm in my chest. He's family, and I'm offering him a chance to be part of this moment, to hold the life that's just beginning, even though everything between us feels so new.

"Do you want to hold your nephew?" I ask, the words coming out with more ease than I expect, as if this is just another piece of the puzzle clicking into place.

Austin's face lights up, and for a second, I forget the tension that still lingers in the room. His lips curl into a smile, but it's tentative, as if he's unsure whether he's allowed to step into this role so quickly.

"Really?" he says, almost incredulously, his voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

I nod, my heart fluttering slightly at the thought of him holding Daniel. It's a small moment, but it feels significant. Austin is family now, whether I'm ready for it or not, and I want him to be a part of this new chapter, this fresh start that we're all trying to navigate.

"Just wash your hands," I say, grinning despite myself. I'm sure I sound like a broken record, but it's one of those mom instincts that just can't be ignored. "No germs around the baby."

Austin chuckles and nods quickly, already turning toward the bathroom. "I got it, I got it," he says, as if eager to prove that he's ready for this moment, ready to step into his role as uncle.

A few moments later, he returns, his hands freshly washed and his expression soft with anticipation. I carefully pass Daniel into his arms, the baby's head nestled against Austin's chest, and I see the awe in his face as he adjusts to the weight of the little one.

"Wow," Austin breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he's afraid to disturb the fragile bond forming between them. "He's... perfect."

I watch them both, feeling something stir in my chest. It's a quiet moment, but a powerful one. Austin's hands, though nervous, cradle Daniel with such care, and for a fleeting second, it feels like everything is exactly as it's supposed to be. Despite all the hurt, the confusion, and the mess of it all, there's a tiny, fragile moment of connection. And in this room, right now, that's all I need.

Austin shifts Daniel in his arms slightly, his expression a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "I'm afraid I'm going to hurt him. Are you sure I'm holding him correctly?" His voice is barely a whisper, as if he's afraid of disturbing the fragile peace between them.

I watch his nervous hands and see the tenderness in the way he holds my son. "You're doing just fine," I reassure him, my voice soft and steady, offering him the confidence he needs. I'm struck by how natural it feels, seeing him with Daniel, despite everything.

As Austin gazes down at the baby, a wave of emotion washes over me. I can tell how deeply he wants to connect, even if it feels unfamiliar, like he's not sure where he fits in this new family dynamic.

Andrea, watching from the side, slowly approaches my bed and sits beside me. She looks at her son, holding my son, and the wistfulness in her eyes makes my chest tighten. "You know," she says, her voice low but filled with warmth, "it was a little over 26 years ago when I was in this same position. Holding my brand new baby and my older sister was so excited to be an aunt."

I turn my head toward her, surprised by her words. "I have an aunt?" I ask, almost like it's an afterthought, but in the back of my mind, I wonder who she was. What she was like.

Andrea smiles softly, her eyes misting over with nostalgia. "Her name is Alison," she says, her voice carrying a quiet reverence. "She adored you, you know. She couldn't wait to hold you."

It hits me in a way I wasn't prepared for. The idea that I had a family once, a place where I belonged, a place that wanted me. It feels like a sliver of something I lost, but maybe now, just maybe, something I can find again.

"It sounds like I would've been loved," I say quietly, my voice thick with emotion.

Andrea's hand reaches up, gently brushing the hair from my face, and her touch feels comforting, like a balm to the raw parts of me that I didn't know were still tender. She sighs softly, her voice cracking a little. "Giving you up was the worst mistake of my life," she admits, her tone heavy with regret. "I never got the chance to tell you that. Your father and I were so scared...we thought we were doing the right thing. But we realized living in a world without you was even scarier. By the time we realized it... it was too late."

The words hang in the air between us, thick with unspoken pain, and I feel the weight of them pressing down on my chest. For so many years, I wondered why they hadn't fought for me, why they hadn't chosen me. But hearing this—hearing that they were just as scared and lost as I had been—makes something shift inside of me. The anger, the hurt, all the years of questions that had no answers, suddenly feel a little less sharp, a little less pointed.

I look at Andrea, her expression vulnerable but full of the kind of longing only a mother can have. "I didn't know," I say softly, my voice breaking slightly. "I didn't know how much you regretted it."

She nods, her own eyes brimming with tears. "I regret it every day. But I want you to know that if I could go back, I would've kept you. I would've fought for you. I just didn't know how. I was only 19."

In that moment, it feels like a bridge is built between us, one made of shared pain, regret, and the faintest flicker of hope. For all the things we've missed, all the years that have passed.

"You have a granddaughter and a grandson," I say, my voice steady as I look from Andrea to Scott. "Zoë and Daniel. The three of you should stop by the house to get to know them better."

Andrea's eyes widen, a mix of hope and disbelief lighting up her expression. "When?" she asks, her voice quiet, like she's afraid of pushing too hard.

"Next week," I reply without hesitation, though the weight of the invitation feels heavier than I expected. My heart races at the thought of letting them in—into my home, my life—but I know it's the right thing to do. It's not just for me anymore; it's for my kids too.

Andrea glances at Scott, her hand finding his. He looks as stunned as she does, but there's a softness in his eyes that wasn't there before. "We'd like that," Scott finally says, his voice gruff but sincere.

Andrea nods quickly, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice cracking. "Thank you for giving us this chance."

—————Author's Note:

Austin 😎